The Residue of Pleasure
by Passionworks
Summary: Ozula Week Prompt Three.  Smoking is like taking a drive on the scenic route to nowhere.  Too bad now there's a baby in the backseat…  Modern AU.  Rated for suggestive content.


**Author's Note: Prompt number three is now in publication! Let's see if I can maintain my stance for the rest of them.**

**Just for the record, TrueThinker, I won't be able to submit my last entry until the 8****th ****(maybe even the 9****th****). Or, if I'm lucky, I may submit it alongside prompt number six. I'll be out of town for the day on the 7****th****. Now, prompt number three here is actually a modern AU. And unlike yours, chica, I actually went ahead and used a drug addiction. One more thing. Ozai, Ursa, and Azula live a somewhat poor lifestyle. No class, no class. I didn't mention Zuko. He is probably out in the streets or something.**

**I think Natalie Imbruglia's 'One More Addiction' really fits here. It's perfect, I know.**

Prompt Three: Addiction

_As long as the wrong feels right…_

The Residue of Pleasure

By: Passionworks

…

"_One more addiction in my world._

_Oh, one more connection to let go._

_Oh, floating down the river,_

_Out of sight forever (from my world)._

_It's the only thing I know how to do."_

_-One More Addiction_

_(Natalie Imbruglia: from the 1997 album, 'Left of the Middle')_

A crushed pack of cigarettes lies ever-so-close to an unopened one. It was only just recently emptied of its habit-forming contents, one by one, and, after a violent fit of rage, was crumbled to its current shapeless form.

Azula's eyes, bulging blazes of yellow and snaking veins of bloody crimson, are twitching as neurotically as her slender hands. Her fingers sporadically tap the table as this addictive spell reeks havoc on her insides. She is hungry to take another puff, feel that delicious nicotine coat her throat like grease.

It was once said that drugs may be the road to nowhere, but at least they are the scenic route. Yes, maybe that is true.

But her hands are off the wheel and the tires are screeching…

Too bad now there's a baby in the backseat…

…

"You're _pregnant_ and you're _still _smoking these awful things?" her mother asks in a bout of bitter surprise. "You wonder why your habits always get you into trouble."

Smirking aggressively, Azula shoots a look at her nosey mother. "No, Mom, I emptied that last pack. Smoked the first one this morning and threw the rest of them out," she lies, her fists clenching. "Daddy doesn't mind my habits."

Another lie.

"That's because your father isn't aware that you're pregnant."

"_Yeah,_ he is, Mom," she sneers. She sighs deeply; her exhale is rather hoarse –that little rattle in her breath is easy to hear. "I told him before I told you."

"Why did you go to him first, Azula? Were you afraid that I'd end up punishing you or something?"

"Punish me for getting knocked up? What would you do, Mom? Force me to abort the baby?"

"I'm not going to reprimand you, honey. I think it's wonderful that you're gonna have a baby. I only wish you'd quit smoking."

"Daddy told me the same thing."

"Funny. I thought you said he didn't give a hoot."

"Of course he cares," Azula says in an exasperated tone, ignoring her fib from earlier. "The baby's his."

…

Ozai's face is contorted into a smug grimace. His arms are crossed over his naked chest, his fingers draping over the wide girth of muscle around his buff arm. Azula is next to him. Her eyes are glued to the TV. Some soap opera is on. A girlfriend is crying over a boyfriend or something.

"So," he says in a snidely happy voice, not really concerning himself with the pitiful conversation those bad actors are having on the screen, "you told Ursa 'bout the baby?"

"I did," Azula answers, her eyes never leaving the screen as she takes a furtive puff of her latest cigarette. "She's _overjoyed._"

"You tell her that the baby's mine?"

"I didn't really want to, but it kinda slipped out of me."

"What'd she say?"

"Nothing, really. She just stared at me for a while and then told me I was lying. Said I was such a compulsive liar…" The pregnant girl takes another drag.

He notices the inevitable snake of cigarette smoke slithering from Azula's lips. "You told me you were gonna quit that smoking shit."

"Habits aren't easy to break, Dad."

"For that baby's sake, you better hope it breaks."

Azula runs the very tip of the charred cigarette across her translucent, gold-colored ashtray, watching with bemused fascination as the ashes spill into the bowl. She leaves the cigarette sit.

"You know, I'm not really sure I want the baby. I mean, we're poor as hell. I'm an addict. And, let's face it, Dad; you're a _really bad _father."

Ozai runs a hand through his hair, taking a quick look at the TV. Those stupid lovers are about ready to tear each other's clothes off and head to the bedroom.

"Well, then choose, damn it," he replies with a cool laugh. "To keep one, you have to get rid of the other. You wanna keep that incestuous bastard child? Or you wanna keep smoking your life away?"

He coughs, scowling at the smell of nicotine filtering the small living room.

Azula ignores his suggestive cough, and breathes in more of that sultry nicotine. "I don't know, but I think my habit's winning…"


End file.
